


My Love is as a Fever

by harriet_vane



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Schmoop, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harriet_vane/pseuds/harriet_vane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam gets sick. Louis looks after him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love is as a Fever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [estrella30](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/gifts).



> [Estrella30](http://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30) requested long schmoopy Liam/Louis h/c with secret feelings, and that is my favorite thing on the planet! (I'm not kidding about the level of schmoop in this fic. You are warned.) I love Danielle and Eleanor too much to break anyone up, so they don't exist at all. Ladies, you are too great for this fic. 
> 
> MASSIVE hearts and thanks to [Elucreh](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Elucreh/pseuds/Elucreh) and [Oddishly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oddishly/pseuds/oddishly) for betaing and Britpicking. She went so far as to find me great specific medical details for this fic but I handwaved a lot of them in favor of schmoop. Kindly do not look to this for medical accuracy.
> 
> Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
>  
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies: It's not meant to be about or imply anything about these actual people, just fictionalized versions of their public personas, ie, if Sorkin got to write a movie about Mark Zuckerberg, I get to write this fic. Please don't post this fic anywhere else, please don't distribute it anywhere, please don't put it on goodreads, and really really please don't link it to anyone being written about here. Thanks!

The last four days of tour were just about the worst they'd ever had. Not the tour itself; that was fine. But Zayn got a cold and he whined about it like he was dying, and Harry jokingly refused to go anywhere near him in case he lost his voice. Something was going on with Louis, too; he was sneaking out all hours of the night and Liam kept finding him sitting in the hall of the hotel, as if he were just daring fangirls to wander by and see him and tear him limb from limb. Louis had been snappy lately, so Harry or Niall would drag him off to go and have a drink or skip out behind security's back, and Liam ended up having to bring Zayn endless cups of tea and listen to him cough sadly and complain that his throat hurt. 

Liam didn't mind looking after Zayn. He was a lot more patient with Zayn's whining than Harry or Louis would have been, and he liked staying in the hotel and sitting around watching terrible pay-per-view films. It had been a long tour already, through most of America and Canada, and even though Liam loved the rush of being on stage like nothing else in his entire life, he was more than ready for a break. 

"What are you going to do when we get home?" Zayn asked. He was wearing one of Liam's hoodies with his knees drawn up to his chest under a blanket, lying on the sofa in his hotel room.

Liam, at the other end of the sofa, kicked one of Zayn's feet with his own. "I'm going home to see my parents," said Liam. "I've got errands and things to do first, though."

Zayn coughed pathetically and waved his hand toward his tea cup, sitting on the floor. Liam sighed, but he picked the cup up and handed it to Zayn. "You aren't going straight home?" Zayn asked. "Because Harry's got that party planned."

"Don't worry; I've put aside time for Harry's party and his dirt biking championship race thingy. Then home to Wolverhampton. I would actually murder someone for one of my dad's dinners."

"You wouldn't murder anyone for anything," said Zayn, huddling over his mug. He coughed again, and it sounded real this time, so Liam patted him on the leg.

Harry had got increasingly restless as tour went on, and kept going out to clubs and doing increasingly stupid things. Liam wasn't entirely surprised when he and Louis got escorted back home by security not long after midnight. Zayn was half-asleep on the sofa when they burst in, reeking of alcohol. Louis, at least, was old enough to drink in the States, but Liam wasn't entirely sure how Harry got away with all the things he did.

"Did you miss us?" Harry demanded.

"Shh," said Liam, nodding toward Zayn. They'd been watching a movie and Liam had been too lazy to go back to his own room.

"You definitely missed me," said Harry, rubbing a drunk, messy kiss on Liam's cheek while Liam swore and tried to shove him off. Louis yanked Harry off, finally, and Liam gave him a grateful little smile.

"Go away," Zayn moaned, pulling the blanket over his head.

"Sorry, mate," said Louis. His eyes were too-bright the way they got when he'd been drinking, but he didn't look cheerful and relaxed like he normally did after a night out. "Come on, Haz."

"They're no fun," said Harry shrilly, and then hiccupped. He burst into laughter at himself. "I'm wrecked."

"It's okay; I'm looking after Zayn. I can look after you, too," said Liam. He stretched and climbed off the sofa, narrowing his eyes at Louis. "How about you? You okay?" 

Louis jerked away from Liam's hand. "I'm fine," he said. "You can put Harry to bed. Leave me alone. I need to make a phone call."

"What on earth is wrong with you?" Liam asked, but Louis had already stomped into the hall with his phone in his hand. "What's wrong with him?" he asked Harry instead, since Harry was usually tuned in to Louis.

"Oh, I think he's just got stuff going on," said Harry, waving his hands around drunkenly. Liam ducked to avoid getting smacked in the face and put an arm round Harry's waist instead, so Harry wouldn't topple over. "Don't worry about it."

"He hasn't told me he's got stuff going on," Liam grumbled. 

Zayn coughed loudly. "I need more tea," he said, giving Liam tragic big eyes.

"You should go to bed," said Liam. Zayn stuck his lower lip out. "Just let me make sure Harry isn't sick in the hall and then I'll bring you more tea, and then _bed_ ," said Liam. Zayn didn't look triumphant, but mostly only because he began coughing for real and ducked under his blanket. 

"Carry me," said Harry drunkenly to Liam's shoulder, putting his arms around Liam's neck. Liam laughed and hooked an arm under Harry's knees so he could pick him up properly.

"I'm carrying you over the threshold, but we're not getting married, okay?" Liam said.

Harry nodded and giggled. "Yes. We're getting married. I'll be sure and say that on stage tomorrow."

"You're an arse," said Liam fondly, carrying him out. Zayn coughed again behind him. 

Louis was in the hallway talking quietly and angrily on his phone. He shook his head at Harry and Liam but just walked farther down the hall, presumably so they couldn't eavesdrop. Liam was going to be annoyed about it but he forgot because Harry was licking his neck, which was distracting.

"Stop it or I'll drop you," said Liam sternly.

"I dare you," said Harry promptly. Liam clearly needed to work on his stern voice.

—

"That was my lunch," Liam said mildly.

"You wouldn't want me to get ill like Zayn, would you?" Niall asked. He didn't look especially sorry. 

Liam shoved him away from his plate. "What's that got to do with anything? Get off my food."

"I've got to keep my strength up," Niall explained. "I finished mine and I'm still hungry. Liam, you should share. What if I catch Zayn's flu?"

"You won't get ill just because I won't give you my food," Liam sighed, but he surrendered his chips to Niall because fighting over food with him was rarely worth it. 

Louis and Harry came in, bickering quietly and sticking their tongues out at each other. "Zayn says he's not coming off the bus, he's going to stay and sleep, and can Liam bring him lunch?" Harry said loudly. He snuck a couple of chips out from underneath Niall's hand and Niall slapped at him. 

"Why can't you bring him lunch?" Liam asked.

Louis shoved him. "You wanted to be the responsible one. Now one of us needs you and you're whinging about it? Badly played."

"I didn't want to be the most responsible, I just am," Liam grumbled. "Get out of my chips!" He started to shove Harry off, but Louis grabbed his arm so he couldn't. "I just don't see why one of you couldn't do something once in a while."

"Your problems aren't even real problems," Louis said, and it was so unexpectedly nasty that Liam stared at him, open-mouthed. Harry and Niall stopped squabbling over Liam's food to stare at him as well, which was a bit comforting.

"Sorry," said Liam, "did I do something?" 

"I…" said Louis. "No, fuck, sorry. I'm having a bad day, and that wasn't… Fuck, I'll take something out for Zayn."

"It's all right, I can do it—" Liam started, still feeling bewildered. Louis teased, but he was almost never _nasty_. He was definitely never nasty when he hadn't been provoked. Liam couldn't remember doing anything to him, not lately at least. But maybe he'd missed something going on with Louis because he'd been looking after Zayn.

"I said I've got it, christ," Louis said. He grabbed a plate off the table and started loading it with a completely random assortment of food, while Liam looked at Harry hopefully. Harry looked confused too, though, wrinkling up his nose. Louis stomped out again.

"Uh," said Liam. "Is he cross with me? Did I do something?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "Maybe? I don't _think_ it's you."

"No one's ever cross with you," said Niall. "Oi, give me those back, I stole them from Liam fair and square."

"And I'm stealing them from _you_ ," Harry argued. There wasn't anything left that Liam felt like fighting over, and he had a weird knot in the pit of his stomach. 

"Maybe I should go check on Louis and Zayn," Liam said.

"Leave 'em alone," said Niall. "Louis's being a cunt and you deserve a break from babysitting Zayn. Here, I'll get you more chips, even."

Liam sank back down into his chair. "You think?"

Harry sat down on Liam's lap, which pretty much meant Liam was staying where he was for a while. "Two days left of tour. Don't stress yourself," said Harry. "He just needs a break, same as us."

"It'll be better when we get home," Liam said, trying to sound certain. It was a bit more like a question, but Niall and Harry both seemed sure. 

—

The last two shows were a little bit painful; Zayn's voice was coming and going and they were all scared he'd lose it on stage. They'd covered for him before, when he'd missed a couple of dates, but it had been terrifying. Plus, the last couple of shows were always manic; the closer they got to the end the crazier everyone went on stage. By the end of the last show, when they all hugged and cried on stage, it was at least half exhaustion, with a healthy dose of relief at finally being done.

Zayn seemed to feel a lot better as soon as they got to the airport. It was madness outside, but quiet in the lounge they had to themselves. Louis was on his phone again, and looking annoyed. Niall went to sleep on the floor under one of the chairs, and Zayn whined at Paul that he wanted to go and find real food because he hadn't eaten in forever.

"He's not cross with you," said Harry, appearing out of nowhere behind Liam.

"What?" said Liam. He was half asleep with his headphones on, and planning to sleep the entire way home. Harry tugged Liam's earphones off.

"He's not cross with you, I just walked by and he's having some sort of fight with his mum," said Harry. "I was eavesdropping."

"You look proud of yourself," said Liam, frowning at him.

Harry shrugged. "If Louis won't tell me, then I get to eavesdrop. That's our deal. He might not _know_ it's our deal, exactly, but it definitely is."

"Well, I'm sorry he's having a fight with his mum," said Liam. 

"He's going straight on holiday with his family," said Harry. "Like, barely getting off the plane and then going away again. He's going to miss my _party_." Harry gave Liam a tragic look.

"Save it; I'm coming," said Liam.

"And then you'll come dirt biking with us? It's going to be sick."

"You have the weirdest parties," Liam said, laughing at him a little. "But I wouldn't miss it. Zayn's not coming, is he?"

Harry hooted with laughter. "Zayn, get muddy? Don't be ridiculous. And Niall's going home to Mullingar, so you're the only one who's coming. You won't let me down?"

"You have a million friends you haven't just spent three straight months with," Liam pointed out, but it was nice feeling that Harry wanted him around. Louis had barely spoken to him since he'd got snappy the other day. 

"You make the best disapproving faces when we all get pissed," said Harry. "Anyway, _someone_ from the band has to be there, or the headlines'll all be 'One Direction Going Their Own Directions??' or some shit." 

"Maybe some time with family'll cheer Louis up," Liam said. "I mean, I hope. If he's still a crab when we start recording again in a couple of weeks someone'll have to talk to him." 

"He's not cross with you," Harry repeated, and yanked on Liam's headphone cord. Liam choked and waved Harry away with a little frown that made Harry laugh. 

Louis was sitting on the floor on the far side of the lounge with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head back against the wall. Liam wanted to go over and offer to… Well, help, somehow, maybe do something for him, stop him frowning like that. But Louis was still on his mobile, shaking his head and looking tired. He'd rack up a fortune making all these calls, Liam thought disapprovingly, but that would probably be the worst thing he could possibly say. He just wanted Louis to be cheerful and his normal daft self. 

Louis clicked his phone off and shoved it in his pocket. He looked even less happy than he had before. 

Liam knew it was a bad idea, but he got up and walked over to Louis anyway. "Hey," he said, kicking Louis's trainer. "So… you okay?"

"Fuck off," said Louis, with no heat at all behind it. "I'm sleeping."

"Right," said Liam. He felt awkward talking to Louis, and he hadn't felt awkward talking to Louis since they'd first been put together as a band. "Just checking."

"I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop being so fucking nice all the time, Liam," said Louis. "Aren't you tired of looking after us?"

Liam shrugged, even if Louis couldn't see it. "No," he said. "I… I mean, I'm fond of all of you. And Zayn's been ill, and you seem unhappy—"

"You don't know a fucking thing about me," said Louis, still sounding more tired than anything else. 

That hurt a bit. "Oh," said Liam. "Sorry, I just—"

"I'm not as nice as you," said Louis flatly. "I need a break from everyone, and especially you. Can you just…" He opened his eyes and waved his hand at Liam, a _go the fuck away_ sort of gesture.

"Yeah," said Liam, putting his hands in his pockets. "Sorry. Of course. I uh, I hope you feel better." Louis just closed his eyes again, so Liam retreated over to the seats and put his headphones on again and tried not to feel like he'd failed miserably with Louis at some conversation he hadn't even known they were having.

—

There were awkward hugs at Heathrow before they braved the crowds and all headed back home. At least, Liam felt a bit awkward. He and Louis normally got on famously, and Liam counted on having Louis around to hang out with when they weren't on tour. But Louis was going away, whether or not he was cross with Liam, and maybe he'd get some space and forget about being so grumpy before they started recording again. 

Liam tried not to brood too much in the car on the way home. He was exhausted. All the energy he'd had from the excitement of the end of the tour had drained away, and he just wanted to go home and lie down. 

He was slightly astonished, when he walked in, to find that his house looked like a small tornado had hit it. Liam was sure he'd cleaned everything before he left. It didn't seem like he'd been burgled; his television was still there, and his Playstation, and all his DVDs and electronics. Things were scattered all over, but Liam was fairly sure no burglar would have left dirty plates out on the table and in the sink, or the fridge slightly open.

There was a sticky note on the fridge, _Thks for letin us stayyyyyy!!!! ♥ ♥ Ruth (and Brit) and Tom! xxxxx_

That explained the mess, then. Ruth and her boyfriend and the dog had clearly run roughshod all over his house. Liam didn't remember actually telling them they could stay there, but then, he would have said yes if they'd asked. Probably he'd forgot because of jet-lag.

Liam got his phone out and sent Ruth a grumpy text about cleaning up after herself. She replied _Welcum baaaack!!! Xxx_ It wasn't like he really thought she was going to come down from Wolverhampton and clean the house. He'd do it himself, make sure everything went back just the way he wanted it.

Just… Not right now. Liam dropped his bags in the kitchen, kicked the fridge shut so it would stop cooling the entire house by mistake, and went upstairs so he could sleep. Zayn was right, really; napping was a wildly underrated hobby. 

—

Liam spent a day puttering around his house, reacquainting himself with all his things. There was no food in the fridge except what Ruth and Tom had left; some fruit that had gone squishy, and bread with green dots on it. Liam tidied up enough that he had a spot to lie on the sofa, and then lost the will to keep tidying. He'd do a proper job later. Instead he sat on the sofa and watched whatever programme came on. After watching American television in hotels, he had just missed hearing the right accents and seeing the right sorts of streets and buildings and people. He called his mum and reminded her he was coming home in a couple of days and asked her to yell at Ruth for him. The rest of the day he spent doing gloriously nothing.

The morning of Harry's party, Liam woke up with a tickle in his throat. He frowned at himself for having caught whatever Zayn had; Liam was almost never ill. He decided to ignore it, because he wanted to get his house properly clean before he went home, and he needed to wash his clothes from tour. That killed most of the day.

His throat wasn't any better by the time he got to Harry's house, which was already full of people and shaking with bass music. Liam's head wasn't thrilled with the volume of noise everywhere; by the time he found Harry he had a headache pounding behind his eyes in perfect time to the music.

"Liam!" Harry shouted. "You made it! Would you like a drink?"

"No," said Liam. "Actually, have you got orange juice for a mixer? I'd have that." 

Harry waved and someone in the crowd found Liam a glass of juice. Liam was grateful Harry had that sort of magic power. Harry put his arm around Liam's neck and pulled him in for a shouted whisper. "Half of London is in my house right now!"

"And that's a good thing?"

Harry laughed. "The whole place is gonna get trashed, it's gonna be legendary."

Liam leaned back to shout in Harry's ear. "Have you heard from Louis?"

"Dunno; he's on holiday in France, probably. He wanted a break from all of us. He was being a bit of a twat, if I'm honest." 

"We normally hang out a lot when we're not working," Liam said, trying not to sound too much like he was complaining. 

"I'm sure when he comes back you can go on your adorable little dates again," said Harry.

Liam shrugged. He didn't think of them as dates, but there wasn't anything untrue about calling them that, really. He just liked spending time with Louis. It felt a bit crap not to know why Louis was so upset. He took a drink of juice and the sting reminded him that his throat hurt. 

"Someone slip some vodka in that?" Harry asked, laughing at his wince.

"Just swallowed wrong," said Liam. 

Harry threw his head back and laughed. "No wrong way to swallow," he said. "Maybe next time try spitting."

"You're disgusting," said Liam, laughing at him. Harry started humming Moments, and Liam rolled his eyes and punched him lightly in the arm before he could get to the bit about making a mess upon anyone's innocence.

Harry got pulled away by the crowd. Liam found other people he knew to hang out with on one of the sofas in Harry's living room. It was loud and crazy and Liam couldn't really bring himself to shout well enough to be heard when his throat was already scratchy. But he was used to being the only person who was sober at one of Harry's parties, and generally the drunk people were funnier than he was anyway.

"Are you having a good time?" Aiden asked, when he dropped by the sofa for a while.

"Yeah," said Liam, "of course."

"You don't _look_ like you're having a good time," Aiden said, frowning a little, but then he got dragged off by the screaming crowd.

Liam was having a good time, but he wasn't actually sure how long he wanted to stick around. He gave it a couple of hours of laughing at all the crazy people and all the ridiculous things going on in Harry's house. Then the burning in his throat got really distracting and he decided it wasn't worth ignoring. He had to go out with everyone tomorrow, too, and he didn't want to feel crap then. He'd go home early and get some extra sleep, maybe take some vitamins. 

_party smashhhhed ittttt see u tomorow_ he texted to Harry, and ignored the _g'night old man!_ he got in response. 

—

Liam woke up feeling worse. He groaned into his pillow for a minute and then forced himself to sit up and breathe. His throat hurt and his head had got plugged up overnight and he just felt tired. Liam was almost never tired, not unless he'd just finished a long run or a show.

Normally he could get a surge of energy from being excited about things, and he was genuinely excited about riding dirt bikes with Harry and his friends. Except it seemed so far away and just… Exhausting.

Liam texted Zayn, _you got me sickkkk you jerk_. Then he got up and cleaned his teeth and tried to convince himself that he felt like getting dressed. 

"It's just a head cold," Liam told his reflection, but his reflection looked tired. He owed Zayn an apology. It was a crappy sort of head cold that made him feel a bit like he'd fallen out of the tour bus while it was still moving.

Showering didn't help, and neither did breakfast, since he wasn't hungry. He sniffled miserably to himself and wished, for just a moment, that he'd caught this stupid cold while they were still on tour. He could have whined at Zayn to make him tea; Zayn owed him. But no, obviously Liam was glad he hadn't lost his voice on tour or had to sniffle through meeting fans. That would have been unprofessional. 

Liam made himself tea, instead, and that helped a little. His throat felt better, at least, but his head had begun throbbing again.

At least he'd got up early, Liam told himself optimistically. He could go back to sleep for a couple of hours and still meet up with Harry later. Liam set the clock on his mobile to wake him up again later and crawled back in to bed.

—

When the alarm rang Liam woke up just enough to shut it off again.

—

There was a banging noise downstairs that woke Liam up just enough to realize his phone was buzzing and buzzing. He turned it on and croaked, "Hello?" 

"Answer your fucking door, Liam!" Louis shouted, and hung up on him.

Liam stared at his phone for a minute. It felt entirely possible he'd just imagined that. He was miserably sniffly and he'd been sleeping a lot deeper than he'd meant to. But then, whether he'd hallucinated Louis or not, he did need to get up. He'd missed half of Harry's outing, and he needed to go and buy some cold medicine.

Someone – Louis? – was still banging on his door. Liam shuffled downstairs and hoped it wasn't Louis coming to yell at him about whatever it was Louis was cross about. Liam wasn't very good at fighting with Louis when he felt well. He'd probably just burst into tears, and then Louis would tell Harry, and they'd all laugh about it in the next interview.

"What?" Liam asked, cracking the door open. "What's wrong, are you all right?"

Louis was standing on the front step. He had a bag in his arms and an incredibly cross look on his face. "You're not dead," said Louis.

Liam took a step back in confusion, which Louis took as an invitation to push past him and into the living room. "Why aren't you on holiday with your family?" Liam asked. 

"We all thought you were _dead_."

Louis was frowning at him like Liam had lied about something. "No," said Liam. "I'm not?" He cleared his throat and then regretted it, because it made the burning feeling worse. "I'm sorry?"

Louis reached out and stuck his hand against Liam's forehead. Liam nearly flinched away out of reflex because he was so used to Louis pinching him somewhere. "You've really caught whatever Zayn had?"

"A cold, yeah," said Liam. "I shouldn't have made fun of him; I feel miserable."

"Well, sit down," said Louis, giving him a little shove toward the sofa. "I'll make you some tea."

"Wait, but why aren't you on holiday, though?" Liam asked. He let Louis bully him over to the sofa because walking downstairs had apparently been a full day's activity. And he really _did_ want someone to make him some tea.

"You look a bit shit," said Louis. "I brought some throat sweets, and some Boots all-in-one flu tablets, and Yorkshire tea, and Ribena."

Liam swallowed the urge to say _I love you._ It was an odd thing to say to a mate, even to Louis, who regularly sucked love bites on Liam's neck. "Cheers," he said instead. "You're amazing. But I don't – why are you here?"

"You missed your play date with Harry. And you texted Zayn you were ill. Zayn texted Harry, and Harry phoned me. You never ditch us unless something's awful, and you never ditch without letting us know."

Louis said that as if it was perfectly rational for him to be there. Liam felt awful enough that maybe it all _did_ make sense, and he was just too tired to work it out. "Right," said Liam. "Well, thanks."

Louis messed around in his kitchen for a minute. "So you have whatever Zayn had, yeah? Sore throat, blocked nose, general sense of whininess?"

"Yes, yes, and I'm sorry?" Liam offered.

"That was a trick question!" Louis shouted from the kitchen. "You don't whine nearly enough. It drives me mad. That's what I was saying the other day." 

"I'm sorry for not whining, then," said Liam. Louis was so confusing. 

"You just make it so difficult for me to… Anyway. Sugar?"

His throat hurt too much for yelling back and forth, so he got off the sofa and went into the kitchen to see if he could help. Louis shouted with outrage and shooed him back to the sofa.

"You got Zayn one million bloody cups of tea, let me make you _one_ ," Louis said, sounding affronted. "I've even made it with loads of sugar, because that's how miserable you look. Shove over."

"No, stop; you'll catch this," said Liam, protesting when Louis tried to sit down nearly on top of him. 

Louis handed him a mug of tea and then pinched him. "I would have caught it off Zayn, then, wouldn't I? You aren't dying or anything, are you? It's not like you to miss Harry's ridiculous thing. You love stupid sports."

"So do you," said Liam, inhaling steam from his tea. Louis dug through his bag and handed him a box of flu tablets. "Thanks, I didn't have any. I was going to go out."

"Two of us are in town," said Louis. "And you're a pop star. I'm sure we could get someone to bring you cold medicine. If management knew you were sick they'd send an army of nurses over."

Liam took a sip of tea and decided _that_ was why he felt a bit of warmth in his chest. "I don't need them, I've got you," he said. His smile was a bit dopey and a bit meant as an apology to Louis for being so ridiculous. 

Louis snorted. "Yeah, lucky you. Shall I put on a film? You must have Toy Story or something around here somewhere."

Louis got up to go and rifle through Liam's shelves, looking at the DVDs. "Why aren't you on holiday?" Liam asked, but he didn't really expect Louis to answer him.

Louis didn't. He found Toy Story 3 and flipped it on and then came back to the sofa. "Your house is a mess," Louis said, picking up a blanket Ruth had left on the floor. He handed it to Liam, who nearly laughed at him – he wasn't _that_ poorly – and then settled himself at the other end of the sofa so his feet were under Liam's legs.

"You don't have to stay," Liam said. "I'm fine, I just fell asleep earlier. I haven't got a fever or anything."

"You shut up and drink your tea," said Louis, digging his toes into Liam's thigh.

This was a much nicer Louis to have around. Liam snickered at him and shut up and drank his tea.

—

There was something wonderfully restorative about having someone make tea when Liam was feeling ill. It wasn't that Louis wasn't usually nice, and he could be thoughtful when he remembered, but he could also be prickly and fragile. There weren't a lot of opportunities for him to do things for Liam; Liam had generally done them for himself already. Liam was slightly embarrassed at how much he liked the way Louis kept looking at him to make sure he was okay. If Liam had been feeling entirely better he might have wondered at his own enjoyment.

"I feel better," said Liam reassuringly.

Louis snorted. "You'd say that even if you didn't."

Liam conceded the point with a shrug. "But I do. The tea helped. I've just got a bit of a sore throat."

"And a cough," said Louis.

Liam frowned at him. "I'm not coughing."

"Yes, you are. You cough every few minutes." Louis leaned over and tried to put his hand on Liam's forehead again, but Liam ducked away. 

"It'll be hot because I'm drinking hot tea," Liam said. "I'm fine. And I'm not coughing." Now that he'd insisted he wasn't coughing the urge to cough was itching in his throat, but Liam gulped down some tea and repressed it.

Louis sighed. "Do you promise? Because Zayn and Harry were worried." 

"You can go and tell them you checked up on me and I feel a lot better," Liam promised.

"And you're going to just… You know, rest and whatever until we go back to into the studio?"

Liam hated lying to Louis. "I'm going home this weekend," he said, and then added quickly, when Louis frowned, "but I'm sure my mum'll be worse than you about getting some rest, and sitting around drinking tea." 

"As long as someone's around to make sure you don't do anything stupid," said Louis.

"You're one to talk," said Liam. Louis leaned over and hit him on the arm. It was a lot more gentle than he normally got hit, though. Liam laughed, and then it turned into a cough, which made Louis frown again. "It's fine," Liam said quickly. "Just all the crap in my throat from my nose."

"Eww," said Louis, wrinkling up his nose. "That's disgusting. Thanks for sharing."

"You should have been here yesterday, when I was feeling really awful. You should go, though, because I'm just going to fall asleep on you and then you'll get all these germs."

Louis shrugged. "I'm sure I've got them anyway. I don't want to keep you up if you're tired, though."

"I think I'll nap," said Liam, and that made Louis look pleased. It was a bit pathetic how much Liam liked it when Louis looked pleased with him. "You're staying in town?"

"I might crash with Harry for a bit," said Louis. "I'll be around. If you start feeling horrible again call, okay?"

"I will," said Liam, although he didn't plan to call or allow himself to lie around feeling ill. Once he convinced himself to start feeling better and act like it, he was sure the cold symptoms would mostly go away. 

Louis was a bit hard to persuade to leave, so Liam yawned a lot and tried to imagine himself looking as pathetic as Zayn had when he was ill. Louis threatened to come back and check up on him, which was stupidly nice considering he should have been on holiday. 

Once he was gone Liam made another half-hearted attempt to clean up some of the mess Ruth had left behind, but sweeping left him oddly winded. He washed a few of the plates and decided he really just wanted to take a nap after all.

—

Liam slept the better part of twenty-four hours, which was ridiculous. When he woke up and it was morning again he got out of bed and showered, and ignored the fact that he still felt tired. He hadn't entirely lied to Louis; he felt a lot better than he had before. His throat didn't really hurt anymore, and he could breathe through his nose after a long hot shower and some hot tea and a couple more flu tablets. His chest just ached a bit.

Liam started a proper clean-up of the house, finally, and managed not to feel like he was going to die just from walking around. He called Harry to apologise for missing biking with him, which Harry just laughed off.

"So boring, Liam, catching Zayn's cold," Harry said. "You should have picked up a stranger in a club and been handcuffed to her bed somewhere. That'd be a better story."

"That doesn't sound much like me."

"Pity," said Harry.

Liam scrubbed at one of the plates Ruth had left in the sink. The dried-on cheese was weeks old, and it would probably have been easier to throw the plate away and buy new ones. "So, I thought Louis was going on holiday."

"Yeah, he had a fight with his mum, he says."

Liam nearly dropped his plate. "What? They never fight."

"Not a fight fight, like… You know, a fight," said Harry. Sometimes talking to him was really frustrating. 

"This is a weird question," Liam said, hedging a little. "But… There wasn't… I mean, I didn't have anything to do with them fighting, did I?"

Harry didn’t say anything for a minute. That was as bad as agreement, as far as Liam was concerned. Harry would obviously know what was going on with Louis. "Uh," Harry finally said. "Why? Did Louis say something to you?"

"No, he's just… He was really nice yesterday, but he's been a bit prickly. A lot lately."

Harry didn't say anything for so long that Liam wondered if he'd been hung up on. "Huh," said Harry finally. "That's… I mean. I don't think he's _still_ angry with you. He just wants some space."

"Still? Was he angry before?" asked Liam, frowning. "Space from me?"

"Oh, it's just Louis," said Harry. "I should go. Feel better."

"I do," said Liam, and then Harry hung up on him. 

Liam could have called Louis's mum; he'd known her for so long it wouldn't even have been that strange. But if she was having some kind of fight with Louis, and Liam was accidentally involved somehow, then she might not want to talk to him, either. 

It was easier to not think about it by making himself really busy doing other things. There were plenty of things he needed to do since he'd been away for so long; there were things he was meant to sign, post to sort out, phone calls he owed people, and a trip to Sainsbury's for milk and things. Lots to do before he went home. 

—

Liam felt pretty okay when he went to bed, but he woke up coughing. It wasn't the little tickling cough from when Louis had been over, either; it was a deep, painful cough somewhere in his lungs that made his whole chest ache. Tea helped a little, but walking around the kitchen made him feel as tired as if he'd run a marathon. He couldn't catch his breath because it hurt too much to try and breathe. Liam curled up on the sofa and tried to convince himself he wanted to get up and do things, when all he really wanted to do was go back to sleep.

This time the medicine Louis had brought over didn't feel like it was helping at all. Every cough felt a little more like his lungs were going to rattle out of his chest. Zayn hadn't had a horrible barking cough, Liam thought resentfully. And he couldn't even complain to Zayn by text, because apparently that made Zayn panic and start calling Harry and Louis. 

Honestly, Liam wanted his mum. He was only a day away from going home, but it felt like forever, and he couldn't quite picture how he was going to get up, and pack, and drive all the way there. 

Liam told himself firmly to stop being a baby. It was just a cough, and he wasn't as ill as he had been a few days ago. He sat on the sofa and felt like a zombie for a few minutes, but then he made himself get up and start in on his list of things to do. Liam was really good at making himself do things even when he didn't want to. It came in handy when he wasn't in the mood for an interview, or when he was feeling a little under the weather and had to suck it up and go on with his day.

—

Moving around to do things wasn't so bad; Liam mostly stopped coughing when he was busy. It was only when he took a break and sat down that he realized how tired and achy he felt. He was pretty sure he wasn't getting back up again. He pulled the blanket over his head and burrowed into it. He couldn't stop coughing long enough to sleep well, though, and it made him feel a little like he was going to cry. He just wanted someone to tell him that he'd eventually feel better. 

He must have dozed off on the sofa because when he woke up again it was light outside. Liam sat and coughed for a few minutes, trying to decide if it was worth getting off the sofa to go and make some tea. He dragged himself up and felt so awful he could barely get a mug out of the cupboard. And he was coughing so badly he nearly spilled the water all over himself. 

It wasn't really feasible to drive home, he decided, feeling awful and guilty about it. "I just don't think I can, this weekend," he said, trying not to cough into the phone, because his mum would worry.

"If you're that ill I can come down there," she said.

"You can't drive all the way down today and all the way back tomorrow in time for work," Liam said, wishing she would anyway. "I'm fine, I'm just tired. Bit of a cough. I caught it off Zayn, and he was miserable for a couple of days but then he was fine again."

"You should see a doctor," said his mum. "If you're too ill to come home you should see someone."

"If it hasn't gone away when we start recording again, I will," said Liam. He started coughing and shoved his phone under a sofa cushion for a minute, so she wouldn't hear. "Really I'm just tired, and I'll rest better here."

"I still think I should come down there if you're poorly," she said. "I'll call later and see how you're doing, how about that?"

"I'll be in bed," said Liam. "I love you, I'll see you and dad in a couple of weeks when we've got another day off. Promise."

She made a fretful, unhappy noise, but Liam was tired of talking and trying not to cough, so he hung up on her and curled up on the sofa again. The coughing was making his throat hurt in an entirely different way that he didn't appreciate, and he refused to lose his voice before they started recording again. Harry would have a field day laughing. 

Liam flipped on the television to something mindless and dozed on the sofa, waking himself up coughing and then drifting off again. He felt miserable and guilty as well as ill; he didn't have a lot of chances to spend a weekend with his family anymore, and he was missing one. They were going to be so disappointed. He nearly convinced himself a couple of times that he could get up and throw some clothes in a bag for the weekend, but he'd get halfway to doing something and just give up to go back and nap instead.

The banging on his door woke him up. After a minute it went away again. Liam thought about getting up to check who'd been at the door, and then couldn't work up enough interest to actually get out from under the blanket and see. There was the noise of his door being unlocked, and Liam pushed the blankets away enough to say, "Mum?" in case she really had driven down to check on him.

"No," said Louis, "but she phoned me. Paul's having kittens you're ill and didn't call anyone. Luckily Harry's got a spare set of keys to your house, did you know? "

"They're for feeding my turtle," Liam said. "Hi." And then he started coughing and pulled the blanket back up over his face so he wouldn’t have to see Louis making fun of him for being so pathetic.

Louis sat down on the coffee table and waited for Liam to stop coughing with a frown on his face. "You sound terrible," he said. "Your mum said you were poorly. I told her you said you felt better, but you don't, do you." He said that with a faint air of disapproval, as if Liam had deliberately lied to him, which Liam mostly definitely hadn't.

"I was feeling better," Liam insisted. He tried not to cough while he was saying it, because Louis was giving him a particularly sceptical, pursed-mouth look. "And then yesterday I felt worse again, but honestly—"

"I told you to call," said Louis. 

That wasn't entirely what Liam had expected. "What?" he asked, and started coughing again. Louis sighed a little and stood up. He put the back of his hand against Liam's forehead, and then vanished into the kitchen while Liam tried to remember how to breathe. Louis came back a couple of minutes later with a cup of tea.

"You are the most ridiculous person I know," said Louis. He sounded a little annoyed and a little bit of something else that Liam couldn't put a name to. "Management wanted to send an ambulance over. Why are you on the sofa?"

"My bed is really far away," said Liam. He was hot and cold at once, and his chest burned every time he took a breath. "And the tea is down here."

Louis snorted. "I'll go and get you a pillow."

"My mum phoned you?" Liam asked. "Really?"

"As if you'd miss a trip home," said Louis. Liam heard him going upstairs and then back down again. The tea was lovely for his throat, but not doing a lot for his cough. He kept nearly choking on the tea because he couldn't stop coughing long enough to drink it properly.

"I don't see why she called _you_ ," said Liam, when Louis came back in. 

Louis shook his head and shrugged. "I'm the oldest, I suppose." He fluffed up Liam's pillow a couple of times and then made Liam sit up properly so he could put the pillow on the sofa. "It took me forever to persuade Paul not to come by as well."

Liam felt a little ridiculous, being babied like this by Louis of all people. Harry had implied that Louis was cross with him, or had been. But he didn't seem especially cross at the moment, pushing Liam to lie down and fussing with the blankets. 

"You didn't need to come over just to make me tea," said Liam, hiding his face in the pillow to try and stifle the next round of coughing. He ached miserably and his head was pounding.

Louis laughed a little. "I'm fairly sure I'm here to take you to the doctor tomorrow, mate," he said. "Paul and everyone are furious that you caught something and no one made sure our first-verse man didn't lose his voice. I told them I'd look after you, but they're massively worried."

"Zayn was fine," said Liam, feeling a little grumpy and entirely childish about it. "I'll be fine. I just need –" his _a nap_ was swallowed up in coughing. Louis put his hand on Liam's back and rubbed gently. It was nice. It was entirely unlike the way Louis had been behaving lately. Maybe Louis had got enough space from Liam already, somehow.

"I think you're sicker than Zayn was," said Louis. "Since he whined and demanded we all look after him, and you've been bumbling around making yourself more ill."

"No, I haven't," said Liam. It wasn't fair, Louis coming over to make fun of him when he felt poorly. Next he'd start pinching and elbowing and Liam wouldn't be able to do anything about it. "I had things to do. And I'm fine."

Louis didn't pinch him, though; he politely waited for Liam to stop coughing without saying anything sarcastic. His face said volumes, though. Liam didn't really want to look at it, at the moment. "I ought to be surprised you're a bit grumpy when you're ill," said Louis. "But I'm not. At least you've got one bad habit. Thank god."

"I've got loads of bad habits," said Liam, but his chest hurt too much to argue with Louis for very long. He couldn't catch his breath properly. Louis seemed fairly insistent that Liam lie down and go to sleep, and that was all Liam wanted to do anyway. 

"I'm going to call people and figure out how to get you to hospital or whatever tomorrow," said Louis. 

"I might feel better by tomorrow," Liam mumbled into the pillow. It was horrifying how quickly he was already drifting off and letting Louis handle things.

"You might," Louis agreed. Liam thought he felt Louis's hand pushing his fringe off his forehead, but it seemed like a lot of work to open his eyes and check. 

"You've got keys to let yourself out, yeah?" Liam managed. But that sounded a bit rude, like he didn't appreciate Louis coming over to check on him, and his mum would be disappointed in him.

"Go to sleep," said Louis quietly, so Liam did.

—

Whatever magic Louis had put in the tea last time wasn’t there now; Liam woke up freezing and shivering and coughing like he was never going to stop coughing again. Louis was still in his house, because that had to be him rubbing Liam's back, but Liam wished he'd go away. He felt worn out and gross and miserable and he didn't like feeling so crap when Louis was around. 

"You've definitely got a fever," said Louis.

"You're going to catch this," said Liam, under the blankets. He was coughing hard enough he was worried he'd be sick. "Go away."

Louis ignored him, which wasn't actually that unusual for Louis. "Would you rather sleep here or upstairs in a proper bed?"

"I'm never moving again," said Liam. "I'm going to be ill forever and die on this sofa."

He was pretty sure he heard Louis laughing at him. "You must be actually dying," was all Louis said, but he didn't sound especially sorry about it.

"Make me some tea or go away," said Liam, trying to curl up into a ball. "I'm freezing."

"I'll get another blanket," said Louis. He patted Liam's back a couple of times, which was nice, actually, and then he vanished. And that was a problem; Liam very much wanted Louis to go away and let him die in peace, but he also didn't want Louis to go anywhere. It was awfully comforting, having someone around while he felt so bad. It would have been a lot simpler if it had been Liam's mum; he could whine to her endlessly and she had to listen and put up with it. He was still technically the baby of the family. But Louis got fed up with people complaining and he wouldn't want to stick around very long, and Liam wanted him to – unless he didn't want him there at all. It was all a bit muddled.

"Here," said Louis, "another blanket and some tea. Any other last requests?"

 _I want my mummy_ was undignified, and a bit ungrateful to Louis, who'd apparently stuck around all day. "Tell Harry he can have my verses if he can manage not to be sick from nerves," said Liam. The blankets and tea ought to have been making him feel warmer but he was still frozen. His teeth were starting to chatter.

"He's got enough solos," said Louis. "Shove over."

That was unfair; Liam was _ill_. "No, it's my sofa," Liam complained. "Go to your house if you—"

Louis shoved at Liam's shoulder and climbed onto the sofa next to him. The entire band had done plenty of lying around on sofas next to each other, they were experts at it, but Liam didn't feel like rolling over or giving up his blankets so that Louis could make himself at home. Louis was half on-top of him, although he was being a bit more considerate of his knees and elbows than usual. 

"I don't see how you can possibly still be cold," said Louis, wiggling his way under the blankets and wrapping his arms around Liam. Liam let him, because he was too tired to work up the energy for a proper sulk. "You're a thousand degrees."

" _You're_ a thousand degrees," said Liam, which didn't even make sense. Louis was warm, though. Liam started coughing again and didn't have room to roll away, so he hid his face against Louis's chest instead. It was actually possible that a cuddle would make Liam feel better. Particularly a cuddle with Louis.

Louis said, "Don't really die, though. Okay?"

"I can't promise anything," said Liam between coughs. Louis laughed, so that was all right then.

—

"Management has got you a doctor on Harley Street. Time to get up!" said Louis. "Paul's meeting us there. I had to talk them out of sending an ambulance to take you to A and E, so don't die and make me a liar before we get there."

Liam preferred the cave he'd made under the blankets on the sofa. "I don't need a doctor," he said. "Go away."

"I'll drag you to the car," Louis threatened cheerfully. "Come on, sunshine, get up."

Liam made a grumpy noise. "Leave me alone."

Louis pulled at Liam's arm and dragged him up. Liam felt too generally horrible to put up much of a fight; the idea of walking all the way out to the car seemed a lot like climbing Mount Everest. "Jesus, are you really going to make me carry you?" Louis complained.

"Who _asked_ you?" Liam asked. He stood up and swayed a little – oh right, he hadn't eaten in a couple of days – and Louis put his arm round Liam's shoulder and propped him up.

"I'm under strict orders from your mum not to let you die," said Louis. "Don't make me call her and tell her you're being a baby."

"You wouldn't," said Liam, but he wasn't _entirely_ sure, because Louis would think it was hilarious to call her. Liam didn't need her worrying any more than she already was. "Fine. But I'm going to end up coughing on you."

"You've been coughing on me for days," said Louis patiently. "I should never have left the first time. This is my own fault, really. Come on; I'm going to tell Zayn you're a worse patient than he is. Who knew that was possible?"

"I'm _not_ ," Liam whined, but it was enough motivation to let Louis pull him outside. He was winded and coughing again by the time he got into Louis's car, and his chest hurt even when he wasn't coughing. Louis didn't say anything, but he was giving Liam a lot of worried looks out of the corner of his eye. Liam ignored them in favor of napping as soon as the car was working. 

Everything had been arranged by someone so they got a private room to wait in. Paul was there for a minute, long enough to chat to Louis, and then he vanished again. Or maybe Liam imagined that; he couldn't find a comfortable way to sit so that he could nod off, but he was too tired to stay awake. A nurse took blood and another made him breathe into an oxygen mask for a while, but he really just wanted to sleep. They kept asking questions about how he'd got sick and whether it had anything to do with his kidney. Liam hid his face in Louis's shoulder and let Louis answer most of the questions. 

"I'm sorry this is such a miserable way for you to spend our week off," said Liam. He couldn't catch his breath. "I'll make it up to you." 

"Just stop coughing like that and I'll count it as repaid," said Louis.

The doctor, when she arrived, listened to Liam's lungs for a while, and checked his temperature. "I want to do a chest x-ray," she said, "but I'm fairly sure what you've caught." She wrote some notes to herself on a pad.

"He's got that thing Nicole Kidman died of in Moulin Rouge, hasn't he?" Louis asked. "Is he going to start coughing up blood and then die?"

She stared at Louis for a minute, and Liam started to laugh, except it turned in to another horrible barking cough. 

"Right, mustn't be funny," Louis muttered to himself.

"He's got pneumonia," she said. "But an antibiotic ought to clear it up in a couple of days."

"No, I haven't," said Liam.

Louis frowned. "He can't have pneumonia; he isn't selling matchsticks on a corner in the middle of winter."

She frowned right back at him. "I didn't say he was _dying_ of pneumonia. But that's certainly what he's caught. It's unusual in someone his age. Maybe he picked up something nasty while you were out of the country."

"I definitely haven't," Liam said again. His mum was going to murder him. "Can we just tell everyone I've got a cold?"

Louis gave him an incredulous look. "How on earth did you manage to catch pneumonia? Do we need to put you in a bubble?"

"What he needs is a very strong antibiotic and a lot of rest," said the doctor. "This is fairly mild, or I'd be admitting him to the hospital for at least a couple of days."

"We've got recording starting on Wednesday," Liam said, trying not to cough in case it made him seem iller than he actually was.

" _You_ haven't," said the doctor briskly. "Shall I sign you off for a couple of weeks?"

Liam had never heard anything so horrible as being told he was going to miss going to the studio. "I don't have a regular job," he said. "I can't miss it. I – I promise I'll have lots of tea and sit around quietly when I'm not working—"

"You can't really think you can _sing_ , when you can't _breathe_ ," Louis said. "Paul is furious you didn't call to tell him you were ill."

Liam was so exhausted, and he'd been looking forward to recording so much. Something that felt suspiciously like he might cry was welling up in his chest. "But I—"

"Hey," said Louis, a little more quietly. "you aren't letting us down or whatever stupid thing you're thinking. You caught this off Zayn; it's his fault. And if you don't rest up you might miss a concert and we couldn't – We wouldn't know how to go on stage without you. Right?"

Liam nodded. He still felt a bit like he'd been given a death sentence, but Louis helped a little, sounding so confident.

"Whatever it is you do, you mustn't do it for at least a week," said the doctor firmly. "I'd say longer but I suspect once you start feeling better it'll be hard to persuade you to rest. And you'll feel better in a few days."

"That's good news," said Louis. "He told me he was going to die and we should all go on without him."

Liam's face coloured a bit, but the doctor thought it was funny. "It's a miserable sort of illness, I'm not surprised he feels terrible. We'll give you something for the fever, and as long as you rest you'll be good as new. Now, chest x-rays."

"If you know what it is, why can't I just go home?" Liam whined, leaning on Louis a bit. Thank god for Louis.

"Don't mind him; he's apparently five when he's ill," said Louis.

"Shut up," said Liam. Pneumonia. He couldn't possibly really have that. The band was going to think it was ridiculous. Liam thought it was ridiculous. The doctor left to go and arrange the x-ray that Liam felt he didn't need, and Liam sighed tragically. It turned into a much more tragic cough. To hell with dignity. "If I'm going to be ill for another week I want my mum."

"I can call her, if you'd like. I'm sure she'll come down."

"Well…" Liam started, and then stopped. The coughing was actually fairly useful for when he wasn't sure what to say next. He wanted his mum so he'd have someone to look after him who he could whine at and be a bit of a baby about the whole thing, but she didn't like missing work any more than he did. And twenty was a bit old to have her take days off work to come and look after him. Ruth and Nicola would be as mean about it as the band would be. "Well, _someone's_ got to make the tea," Liam said at last. "But I hate to make her come. I can do it myself, I suppose, now that I've got pills for this."

Louis said mildly, "I don't understand. Have I been making it wrong, somehow?"

"You're supposed to be on holiday," said Liam. "And… Weren't you cross with me about something?"

Louis sighed. "Not cross with you for anything you can help. It's just hard when you're so… It's hard that I can't ever find reasons not to like you. Anyway, I'd be back from holiday tomorrow. You don't mind if I stick around? I can make tea, and put on films, and fluff pillows. I wouldn't trust you not to catch bubonic plague trying to make your own tea."

Liam was fairly sure he was hallucinating large portions of this conversation. Why on earth did Louis want reasons not to like him? "But you don't _have_ to—"

"You're going to hurt my feelings, if you keep insisting I should go," said Louis, so Liam stopped. "I'm doing your mum a favor, remember."

Louis was mocking him; Liam could hear it in his tone. It wasn't nasty mocking, though. And it was a bit reassuring that Louis felt like he could make fun of Liam; that had to mean he wasn't as ill as he felt. "You are very confusing," said Liam.

Louis snorted. "I get that a lot. Come on; x-rays. Don't you dare whine; I'll record it and make it my text alert."

"You're a horrible nurse, I changed my mind, I don't want you," said Liam, but Louis just laughed again and pulled him to his feet so they could go and do the x-ray.

—

Louis made an excellent pillow in every waiting room they ended up in. Liam made a mental note about thanking him, or at least coughing on him less, but the longer he spent upright and trying to stay awake, the more his chest hurt, and the groggier he felt. By the time they actually headed back to Liam's house he just wanted to crawl back into bed forever. 

It was hard, trying to come up with a way to thank Louis that wasn't totally embarrassing. Normally Liam would have said something and then punched him, or jumped on him, and it would have been fine. But he couldn't imagine working up the energy to be anything other than sincere, and that always got him these long, strange looks from Louis, like he wasn't sure if Liam was taking the piss or not.

"I'm sorry I've been such a brat," said Liam eventually. He hadn't meant for Louis to actually help him out of the car, but he also felt like most of his body was made of lead and it was possible he wasn't going to make it as far as his bedroom. "You've been really nice and—"

"I don't mind," said Louis. "Imagine if I weren't around, and you'd died. You can expect management to try and send over a nurse every day, by the way, to check and see if I've let you die yet."

"I'd have gone to the doctor eventually," said Liam. He kept trying not to cough because it hurt so much, and he had medicine; he ought to be feeling better soon. 

"Next time you're not sure if you need a doctor, call me," said Louis. "I don't think you're very good at deciding."

"Hey," said Liam, a little wounded. "I've been to more hospitals than you can imagine."

Louis sighed. "And thank god this isn't a kidney thing, I wouldn't know what to do. You're allowed to be as much of a brat as you'd like. That's what I'm here for, honestly."

"No, that would be awful," said Liam, and then coughed loudly and miserably for a minute on purpose. He had realized, while he was dozing off at some point at the doctor's, just how much he liked having all of Louis's attention like this, not having to share with Harry or Zayn or Niall or the fans. And it wasn't fair to Louis, just because Liam had been a bit lonely, and quite liked the way Louis smiled at him when he was teasing and playing around. "I just mean, thanks, and… And you don't _really_ have to…"

"Hurting my feelings," said Louis loudly. "You obviously need a nap; you're talking complete crap."

It was just a bit difficult, even feeling feverish and terrible, not to notice how nice it was of Louis to make sure Liam had enough blankets, and that his tea was made up the way he liked it (even if Louis pulled silly, disapproving faces), and how Louis's hands on his back were so careful and solicitous when he began coughing again. Louis could be really, really kind in a way that made Liam feel warm all over.

It would be inconvenient and childish to develop a crush on Louis, Liam told himself, and then fell asleep before he had a chance to work out how to make sure he avoided that happening.

—

Liam slept off and on for what felt like forever; he kept expecting Louis to have got bored and wandered off, but he was always there with tea and soup and messages from Liam's mum, who was apparently calling on the hour every hour. 

"I think she thinks I'm Kathy Bates in Misery or something," said Louis, and Liam laughed until his chest began hurting again. "If it's not her then it's Zayn, who I think is having a nervous breakdown over giving you pneumonia," Louis added with a certain amount of evil glee. 

Liam groaned. "Can't you tell everyone I'm fine?"

"I could if you _were_ fine," said Louis. "How do you feel? I've got a thermometer, now, and orders to tell Paul if you've got a fever. He was here earlier, but you were asleep."

"It's weird, people wandering in and out of my house," Liam grumbled. 

"You should never have given Harry a set of keys," said Louis, not sounding at all apologetic. "You're lucky it's the sort that goes in your ear," he added, brandishing the thermometer with a wicked little grin. Liam ducked away from him, scowling.

"Well, you couldn't use the under-the-tongue sort; I'm drinking tea," Liam said. Louis gave him a look that was almost entirely eyebrows. Liam choked. "Oh," he said. "Oh, _no_. That's for babies!"

"Then stop _being_ a baby. I need to tell everyone you aren't dying." Louis put his hand on Liam's chin and turned his face so he could get at Liam's ear, and Liam let him. It was barely worth fighting with Louis over things when he felt well. At some point, early on in the X-Factor, Liam had resigned himself to giving Louis whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. It saved time and a lot of energy, and anyway Liam didn't ever mind making Louis happy. 

It was a bit awkward, especially because the way Louis was holding his face was making him a little squirmy. Liam went to turn away and Louis's fingers tightened and Liam just… It was all a bit much. Liam was clearly developing one of those, what were they called, the things in films when the wounded soldier fell in love with his nurse. Harry would know what it was called. Maybe he'd know what to do about it.

"Thirty-eight point six," said Louis. "That's better than it was at the doctor's."

"It's still a fever," Liam complained, as if it were Louis's fault. He wiggled away from Louis on the bed a bit. It was hard enough to breathe when he couldn't stop coughing and his chest wasn't working right; he didn't need the added problem of not knowing quite what to do about Louis.

"Shall I twitter it?" Louis asked. "'Get well Liam' has been trending all morning. I think we got our pictures taken at Harley Street."

"No, oh god," said Liam. "I hate being ill, I hate that people _know_ I'm ill, I just—"

Louis threaded his fingers through Liam's and squeezed a little. "It's just because people love you." 

Liam's face got hot, and he suspected it wasn't from the tea or from the fever. It wasn't anything unusual for Louis to say, but now it felt entirely different. "I'm sorry; I'll stop complaining."

"Call your mum," said Louis, fishing Liam's phone off the table by his bed. "And I'll call Paul and Zayn."

It was a bit difficult to reconcile this Louis, who was apparently infinitely patient (even if he mocked Liam quite a bit) with the one who was normally so silly and loud and ridiculous, or the one who could be so prickly and difficult. Louis had always said he was broody and felt a bit like the band's mum, but Liam hadn't really ever been the focus of it before. Harry had, when he was nervous about performing, and Niall had when he was homesick, but Liam didn't usually need looking after. 

"You must be a wonderful older brother," said Liam, dialing his parents.

"That's what the band is, right?" said Louis, pulling out his own phone. "Brothers? I'll get you some more tea. Paul! Hi, no, he's not quite dead."

Louis walked out, chatting away to Paul, which was nice, because Liam wasn't feeling particularly brotherly about Louis at the moment. 

—

It was a couple of days before Liam woke up feeling better. When he realized he could breathe he spent a futile hour trying to convince Louis he was well enough to go to the studio. "That's ridiculous," said Louis. "You are being completely ridiculous. You have pneumonia. Shut up."

"I _had_ pneumonia," Liam said. "Now I'm completely fine."

Louis gave him the most skeptical look Liam had ever seen. 

"Seriously," said Liam, and then undermined himself slightly by starting to cough.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," said Louis. "I mean, I understand you're a bit jealous we're going in to the studio –"

"I'm not _jealous_ ," said Liam. "I'm…" He floundered for a minute, trying to come up with a word for "devastated" that wasn't just devastated. "I'm upset. I want to be there, being there is my _job_."

Louis sighed. "Your job is to feel better. Look; I've brought over all the Pixar movies you were missing. By the time you get done with Up I'll be back."

Liam tried his saddest, most pathetic face. "But—"

"You still have a fever," said Louis. "You'll get ill _again_ and miss tour, and that would be irresponsible to the fans and to the band, and—"

"Stop," said Liam. Louis knew just what to say to make him feel too guilty to keep whining. "Stop, I'm sorry, stop. But I could go in _tomorrow_."

"The doctor said a week. That means not before Sunday." 

Liam aimed for a look somewhere between 'tragic' and 'hopeful.'

"That's not fair," said Louis. "Stop looking at me like that. I don't know; Paul and the boys want to come by today. You shouldn't, but if it's okay with Paul, I suppose."

"I feel _loads_ better," Liam insisted. "Really. I'll convince Paul."

"Good luck with that." Louis sat down on the edge of Liam's bed for a minute. "You're sure you're alright? I could stay."

"You've been here for nearly a week already," said Liam. "I ruined your holiday."

"I skipped out on my own holiday," said Louis.

Liam was finally feeling better enough to push a little. "Why? You and your mum never fight, you wouldn't – I'm just really surprised."

Louis's mouth twisted in a sad little smile. "It wasn't a proper fight or anything." Liam bit back the urge to say _that's what Harry told me_. "It was more like… She thinks I'm being a bit stupid over something, and she's worried about me. But I'm an adult, and I'll be as stupid as I like."

"You always are," Liam said, and Louis play-scowled at him. Liam laughed. "What are you being stupid over this time?"

"Oh, just…" Louis shrugged and looked down at the blankets. "She thinks I'm wasting my time fancying someone who isn't very likely to fancy me back. The sort of thing mums worry about."

Liam bit his lip. "It isn't Harry, is it?"

Louis laughed. "If it were Harry it'd be easy. I'd just say, 'Harry, mate, d'you fancy a shag?' and he'd probably say yes just because. No, it's a lot less likely than that."

"She just doesn't want you to get your heart crushed," said Liam sympathetically. "She's your mum; she loves you."

"I can handle a bit of having my heart crushed," said Louis." I just wish… I wish it were easier not to like this person. But there's no need to worry about me. It's happened before, and it'll happen again, I'm sure. Now, do you absolutely promise you're going to rest all day while I'm gone?"

Liam wasn't done discussing poor Louis and Jay, but Louis was giving him a very stern (and slightly adorable) look. "I'll lie around and nap, I promise," Liam said, sighing a little. He could feel that he was about to start coughing again and he wanted Louis to leave before that happened, or he'd start fretting and he'd never go.

"You'd better," said Louis. "Okay. If you need anything, call me. If your fever gets worse, or you need your pillows fluffed, or you want anyone killed. You'll call."

Liam started to laugh, which meant he started to cough. "I promise," he managed. "Go. Before they think you caught this. Tell them –" _Tell them I miss them_ was too soppy. "Er, tell everyone I said hello."

"We'll see if you feel up to visitors later," said Louis. "Don't do _anything_. Got it? Nothing."

"Well…" said Liam. He felt better and he didn't really think he could stand to stay in bed all day, but mostly he liked the way Louis frowned at him.

"I'll stay," Louis threatened. If Liam had to stay home all day he'd much rather it was with Louis. Louis would do all the voices from the movie and pull silly faces and cuddle on the bed if Liam could manage to stop coughing long enough. But that was selfish and a little bit weird. 

"Go," said Liam. 

Louis sighed. "I'll call and check on you later. Don't answer if you're asleep."

"Go away," said Liam, shoving at Louis's leg. "Get off my bed, get out of my house. I'll call the police." Louis laughed as he left. 

Liam didn't mean to be a liar, but there were some things he'd meant to do that he hadn't got to do in days; showering, for one, and the washing up. It turned out that those two things were enough to leave him winded and tired and coughing on the sofa. It was probably a good thing he hadn't gone to the studio, Liam thought grudgingly. He felt better than he had, but still absolutely exhausted. He was optimistic that if he felt this much better today he'd be entirely better tomorrow, but he suspected it was going to be hard to sell that to Paul, who was a bit of a worrier.

He spent a couple of hours on the sofa watching films Louis had brought over and worrying over Louis, who'd rather spend his time fussing over Liam rather than going on holiday and listening to his mum fuss. That had to be a fairly serious fight with Jay, even if it wasn't a fight-fight. And it wasn't like Louis to fight with his mum over anything. 

It wasn't until Liam was drifting off, while Wall-E tried to find Eve in the spaceship, that he remembered that Harry had all but said Louis and Jay were fighting over Liam.

—

Louis came by with all the lads and Paul. Liam had somehow managed to forget just how loud his band was over the past week. Maybe his house had just been so quiet lately, with only him and Louis around, and him mostly sleeping. Harry and Niall came in bickering loudly over something, and Paul and Louis were having some sort of shouted conversation that was mostly nonsense noises on Louis's part. Zayn threw himself on the sofa with Liam with an apologetic, "I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry." He put his arms round Liam and hid his face in Liam's shoulder, and Liam tried to reassure him that it wasn't his fault while also trying not to cough all over him.

"You look pretty shit," said Niall, frowning at Liam. Harry was trying to steal the packet of crisps out of his hand and Niall was fending him off with an elbow. "I thought you said he looked better?"

"He does; this is the best he's looked in a week!" Louis shouted from the kitchen. 

"Hey," Liam objected mildly. 

Louis came out to the living room apparently just to point at Liam accusingly. "You told me you were going to die, and you were never going to feel better again." 

"Well, now I feel better," said Liam. 

"Do you really?" Zayn asked, still octopusing himself around Liam. 

"Zayn's been trying to martyr himself on your behalf all week," said Harry loudly. "But Louis wouldn't let us come over. Louis's been keeping you all to himself, which is against band rules. You aren't allowed to hog Liam." He snatched the crisp packet out of Niall's hand. "And _you_ have to share food."

"No, I don't!" Niall shouted. Harry threw himself, giggling, on top of Zayn, and then Niall threw himself on top of both of them. Liam had missed them, obviously, and he was very sad he hadn't been in the studio, but just _watching_ them all shout and flail at each other was exhausting. He ducked out of the way of Niall's fist and Harry's elbow.

"Get off!" Zayn yelled. "Liam's ill, get off him, you animals!" He shoved Harry and Niall both to the floor. 

"This is why none of you were allowed to come by," said Louis sternly. "Stop it, or I'll send you home."

"Who said _you're_ in charge?" Harry demanded.

Liam started coughing and turned to hide his face in the arm of the sofa. When he looked up again everyone was staring at him with worried expressions. "I'm fine," he said quickly. 

"You sound like you're coughing up a lung," said Niall, sounding a little impressed.

"You should have heard him Monday." Louis shook his head. Liam was trying really hard not to find it cute the way Louis had taken over everything. It was difficult, though, because the way Louis kept reminding everyone that he was the one who'd been there since Liam had got ill was… It was a bit like they had their own in-joke or secret or something, just for the two of them. And Liam always liked being the center of Louis's attention. Now all that attention was making his chest feel a little odd, in a way that was entirely different to how the pneumonia had made it feel.

Zayn frowned at everyone. "Shouldn't he be sounding better by now?"

"He does," Louis insisted. "But I think this is probably why the doctor said she wanted to sign him off for a week or two."

"One," said Liam quickly. "She said _one_."

"Because you looked like you might cry."

Zayn gave Louis quite a disapproving look over that, which Liam appreciated. "I can probably go back to the studio tomorrow—" Liam started. 

Zayn put his hand over Liam's mouth. "He isn't serious, right?"

"No, he is," said Louis with a sigh. "It's like because he can't see himself, he thinks we can't all tell he's still ill."

Paul gave Liam a grumpy look. "You aren't coming in tomorrow. You aren't coming in this week. We'll redo the schedule, we can record on the road while we travel or something."

"I don't want to screw everything up," said Liam, pushing Zayn's hand away. "I can do it if you need me."

"Of course we need you, mate," said Niall. 

"Yeah," said Louis, frowning at Niall. "But we need you _alive_."

Harry snapped a shot of Liam and Zayn with his phone. "I'm proving to twitter he's still alive right now."

"That's not the same as proving it to me," said Paul.

Liam sighed a little and cuddled into Zayn's shoulder. "Make everyone stop picking on me," he said.

"Poor Liam," said Zayn sympathetically, petting Liam's hair. 

"Don't get too comfortable, mate; that's my spot on the sofa." said Louis. "You're stealing my cuddle." Liam was glad his face was hidden against Zayn's chest, because he smiled like a total idiot at that.

"I haven't got a cuddle from Liam yet," said Harry loudly. "Where is my cuddle?"

Niall threw himself on top of Harry. "No," he said. "Cause you'll catch something even worse than pneumonia and we'll never hear the end of the whining."

Possibly Harry bit Niall then, or maybe Niall just started hollering for no good reason. Liam was tired, and Zayn was warm and comfortable. Liam had really, really missed them, but he was also exhausted, and it was especially exhausting trying not to cough all the time. 

All of the noise in his house melted together into a general maelstrom of shouting and laughing, and it was lovely not to be lonely but possibly Liam dozed off for a while. He woke up when Zayn had to shake him awake and make him move. "We're being kicked out by Nurse Ratchett," Zayn said. "You get some rest, okay?"

"You don't have to go," Liam yawned, but Louis was herding everyone toward the door.

"I'll bring you some soup," Niall promised, and Harry complained loudly that he was still not getting as many hugs as everyone else. Paul pulled them both outside. Zayn gave Liam another guilty look and a hug as he left, and then it was just Louis and Liam again.

It was remarkably quiet. "I didn't mean for everyone to leave," said Liam. "And, I mean, you don't have to stay."

"Of course I have to stay," said Louis, settling on to the sofa. "You sleep better on top of someone else. You've been around Zayn too much in the last couple of years; he's ruined you."

"I can sleep without you," Liam said, but he didn't try very hard not to get pulled mostly into Louis's lap, because… Well, because he wanted to be there. Louis's leg made an excellent pillow. 

Liam should have asked Louis about his argument with his mum, and what that had to do with Liam, but… Liam was tired, and he was a little afraid of what Louis would say, or that it might bring back the snappish, slightly cruel Louis who'd been around at the end of the tour. He liked this one, who was threading his fingers through Liam's hair and talking mostly to himself. "You know what I got to distract you? All ten seasons of Friends. If you think you can stay awake long enough. We can make fun of all the ridiculous things everyone wears."

"I won't fall asleep," Liam said, yawning again. 

Louis snorted. "You definitely won't make it as far as Ross and Rachel being on a break."

"I'd rather get to Monica and Chandler. Go and get me some tea." He pushed a little demandingly at Louis's leg.

"Can't do that without moving," Louis pointed out. "And what's so great about Monica and Chandler? They're both crazy."

"They're like… Opposites. It's nice," said Liam. "It shouldn't work but it does. Like us. Like – Like – Like the band, I mean. We're all really different, and—" He started to cough, which was only sort of on purpose. Maybe Liam really did still have a fever, and it was making him horribly stupid.

Louis rubbed his back until he stopped. "I'll go and make some tea, I suppose. And then you can fall asleep on me as much as you like. Monica and Chandler will still be around."

Liam clearly needed to figure out what he was going to actually say to Louis before he said anything, or it would all go horribly wrong. He wasn't entirely sure he had anything to say to Louis, anyway; Louis was just being a good friend and the bit about his mum might have been coincidence. Maybe when Liam felt better he wouldn't still have all these vague, affectionate thoughts about Louis. 

But Liam was pretty sure all that was going to be different, once he felt well, was that he'd just be thinking about having sex with Louis instead of cuddling with him. And that would be massively inconvenient if Louis had meant someone else, or if Louis were in a bad mood all the time again suddenly, or if it was weird for the band.

It was mildly weird for Liam; he'd never thought much about another boy before. Other than Louis also having a dick, though, the general fluttery feeling in Liam's chest was the same as it had been any time he'd fancied a girl. Maybe it was supposed to feel different, when it was gay? Harry would know. Harry knew that sort of thing. Liam just wasn't sure how to ask him.

"Tea with too much sugar, yeah?" said Louis, starting to shift away on the sofa.

"I changed my mind; stay," said Liam, putting his hand on Louis's leg. 

"I'll come right back," Louis promised, but Liam just held on tighter. After a minute Louis sighed and flipped the Friends DVD on instead. 

—

Liam felt a lot better the next day; his cough had all but vanished and he could breathe normally again. For some reason Louis still wouldn't be argued into letting Liam come to the studio. "This is what the doctor meant," said Louis. "Once you start feeling better you still have to rest."

"I have rested!" Liam protested. "I've done nothing but rest for a million thousand days." 

"That doesn't even – No," said Louis. "I'm calling Paul."

Liam pouted at him. "I don't need to be yelled at by Paul. I feel _fine_."

"Not that," said Louis. "I'm telling him I'm staying home today with you so you don't go and run a marathon or something."

"Home?" Liam echoed.

"Here," said Louis, frowning at him. "I meant staying _here_. Shh."

Liam was sure Paul would never agree to that, but Louis worked some of his magical charm and got permission. "They can record Harry and Zayn today," said Louis. "It's not as if I'm really needed."

"You are," Liam insisted. "How can you say that?"

"Because I'm not an idiot," said Louis. He looked a little sad.

Liam sighed and patted Louis's leg. "I'll make you some tea, how about that?" He stood up to go downstairs, because honestly, he'd been sleeping for so many days straight he felt a little like he was going to fuse into his bed.

"Fine," said Louis, which was a bit suspicious. Liam ignored it, though, because he was desperate to get out of bed and do something, anything.

Going down the stairs and making tea didn't make him light-headed or exhausted, which meant he was definitely entirely recovered. Well, fine; his chest still hurt a tiny bit, and he was coughing now and then, but it was nothing to what it had been before. "See? I feel entirely better," Liam said, carrying tea back upstairs. It was only a tiny exaggeration. 

"That's nice," said Louis. He'd changed the sheets on Liam's bed and set up his laptop. 

"Let's go and do something," said Liam. "I haven't been outside in weeks."

"Or," said Louis, "we could nap and watch more Friends."

"What? No, I just got _up_ ," Liam said, but Louis took the tea out of his hands and put the cups on the table by the bed. And then he wrapped his arms around Liam and dragged him down onto the duvet. 

"I'm not tired," Liam complained. "I've slept enough for my entire _life_."

Louis had his arms around Liam's waist and his leg over top of Liam's and his head on Liam's chest. "I'm tired," he said. "Just a couple of episodes, okay? We didn't even finish the first series."

"Well – But – " Liam started, but crawling out from underneath Louis seemed like such a lot of work. And he liked napping with Louis. This was a good opportunity to ask Louis about things, but Liam found the words froze up in his throat when he tried. "Just a couple," he said instead.

"Right," said Louis, settling more comfortably on top of him. "I won't even make fun of you when you fall asleep."

"That's because I won't," said Liam, as the DVD started up. Louis's breath was warm against his chest, even through his t-shirt, and it was a bit distracting and a lot comforting. 

"Because you're entirely well now," said Louis.

"Yes," Liam said insistently. He put his hand a little tentatively in Louis's hair and Louis pushed up into it a little, smiling. "I suppose resting a bit more wouldn't hurt, though."

"Clever lad," said Louis, rubbing his thumb in little circles on Liam's hip. Liam wished he'd stop – it was hard to remember to breathe while he was doing that – and wished he'd never stop in equal measures.

—

It was almost a game; Liam would try and convince Louis he was well enough to do something, and Louis would try and drag Liam back to bed or to the sofa to cuddle. It was a bit weird for Liam to try and get away from cuddles from Louis, but now that they were a bit fraught with feelings, Liam wasn't entirely sure how to relax into them anyway. Liam got to do a lot fewer things than he wanted to, but he also napped a lot less than Louis wanted him to. 

Louis had to go in to the studio for a few hours the next day, and Liam insisted on coming along. He felt at least ninety-nine percent better, and when they got there and everyone started fussing over him he pulled a lot of faces and ducked away from a lot of well-meaning people trying to put their hands on his forehead to check for a fever.

"I'm fine," Liam said. "I'm absolutely fine. I'm sorry if I worried people, but—"

"We've got a room that's entirely flowers," said Paul. "Thousands of them. And we've started donating them to hospitals and whatnot, because we just haven't got room for them all."

Zayn and Louis and Niall got pulled away to go and record something. Harry gave Liam an up-and-down stare. "I'm fine," said Liam. "Honestly."

"You do look a bit better," Harry allowed. "Less like a Dickensian ghost haunting all of us for our sins."

"What? I never looked like that."

Harry snorted. "You looked like absolute crap, mate. And now you just look a bit bored."

"I am bored," Liam said. "I'm _so_ bored. I've missed _everything_. I could stay late today and make up for it. I could go and—"

"You're going back home when Louis's done," said Harry, cutting him off. "The doctor signed you off until Sunday."

Liam moaned and slumped in his chair. "But I'm _bored_. I'm going mad, I can't stay home and do nothing all day."

"Get Louis to entertain you," said Harry. "I'm sure he'd make a puppet show or something." He snickered to himself.

Liam bit his lip. Harry had an official policy of eavesdropping on Louis, after all, and he always knew what was going on in Louis's head when Liam had no idea. "Er," said Liam. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Harry pointed out. He sat down on the arm of Liam's chair.

"No, I mean…" Liam took a deep breath to brace himself. "So, Louis and his mum had a fight, yeah? And… He said it was over her worrying he was fancying someone who wouldn't fancy him back, and you… You said that…" _You said it was me_ , Liam thought, but couldn't quite work up to saying. If he was wrong Harry was going to make fun of him forever. And it would be a bit crushing, really. 

Harry fidgeted a bit. "Can you just… Can you promise you'll be really nice about letting him down?"

Liam's heart thumped painfully in his chest a couple of times. So he was right, and not an idiot. "Umm," he said, because his brain was working a bit slowly trying to process all this news.

"Just tell him how much you love him as a mate, and then… If you're feeling up to it, it couldn't hurt to throw in a quick shag. Just between mates. Make him feel a bit better."

"You have very weird relationships with your mates," said Liam, and then realized he was one of Harry's mates, and frowned.

"I don't want him to be upset," said Harry. 

"No," said Liam. "I don't, either. I… Um. What if I wanted to do the opposite of that?"

Harry frowned. "The opposite of sleeping with him? I think that's what you _are_ doing."

"The opposite of not sleeping with him," said Liam. Harry looked confused. Liam had confused himself as well. "I mean, what if I didn't want to upset him at all, because… Because I… Because I've maybe been thinking about him a lot lately."

Harry gaped a bit. "Seriously? That's… Uh, well. Really?"

"Really," said Liam, frowning a bit. "Do you think it's a bad idea? You know Louis best; I don't want to screw things up massively for us."

"Oh, no, it's more… I just thought you were really, really straight," said Harry. "I should know better than to label anyone, I suppose."

Liam's face was getting a bit hot. "Oh," he said. "Er, I suppose it's all bit theoretical."

Harry gave him a crooked, interested grin. "Tell me about your theories, then, Liam Payne."

Liam blushed furiously. He wished he still had an awful cough to hide behind. "No, it's just – I mean – Sometimes I—I mean, he's really _Louis_ , isn't he? But like… I… I mean…"

"You," said Harry, getting more and more delighted, "are having dirty thoughts about Louis, aren't you?"

"Er," said Liam. "Sometimes?" The pneumonia hadn't killed him, but this conversation with Harry might.

Harry snickered. "Clearly I have underestimated you. This is amazing."

Liam shook his head. His chest hurt but he couldn't really blame it on being ill anymore. "No, it's all really really… Theoretical. I mean. It was me Louis was talking about? Are you sure?"

"Let him take you home and put you bed," said Harry, still laughing to himself. "And make him go to bed with you."

Liam gaped at him a little.

"Oh, come on," said Harry. "It's not really a first date. It's Louis. You've known him for years now."

"It's more… You're jumping from A to Q," said Liam. "I haven't even really thought about much beyond wanting… Er… General sorts of…" He trailed off, because Harry was laughing again.

"I'll email you some good gay porn sites," said Harry. He sobered up and put on his serious face, instead. "Listen, mate. I only just worked out it's you he's been such a twat over the last month because you confuse the shit out of him. So don't screw this up or you'll ruin everything and he'll probably lose his mind."

"Oh, no pressure," Liam complained.

Harry clapped him on the back. "Nah, you'll be alright. His whole problem is that no matter what he does, you just keep being kind. Drives him nuts, makes him shout at you. Except when you're ill, I guess."

"Maybe I should pretend I'm still ill," said Liam, feeling a little discouraged. The idea that being himself made Louis want to shout at him was weird. And he couldn’t do anything about it without changing himself, which would presumably make Louis like him less. 

"Don't do that," said Harry, grinning sideways again. "Don't think he'll have sex with you while you're ill."

Liam punched Harry lightly in the leg and Harry punched him back a lot harder. It was nice, having things be normal again.

—

Liam tried to ignore Harry's encouraging thumbs-up when Louis announced he was taking Liam home again. It was weird. There were fans outside the studio and Liam stopped to take pictures and reassure them that he hadn't caught pneumonia and wasn't dying – "I can't believe you _lied_ ," said Louis, sounding impressed – and then Louis dragged him off to the car.

"How do you feel?" Louis asked, squinting at him suspiciously.

"Fine," said Liam. "Seriously, I feel absolutely fine."

"Hmm," said Louis, and put the car in gear.

It was a weirdly quiet ride back to Liam's house. Liam couldn't figure out a good way to bring up his conversation with Harry, and he definitely wasn't going to do what Harry had suggested. It would have been a lot easier if Liam had still been feeling ill and could just have dozed off. Instead he was looking at Louis's arms where he'd rolled up his sleeves, and his neck when he swallowed. It was a bit stalkery, except they were friends. And despite what he'd said to Harry earlier, he was a bit more interested in practice than theory at the moment.

Louis didn't appear to notice all the staring or the way Liam couldn't manage to come up with anything to say that wasn't about the weather. "I know you think you feel better," said Louis. "But I still think you should probably eat something and then get some rest."

"Am I going to be allowed to drive myself places and decide when I want to nap any time soon?" Liam asked mildly.

"I wouldn't hold my breath, no," said Louis cheerfully. "Maybe that'll teach you next time you decide to scare everyone half to death."

"Right," said Liam. "Sorry. My fault."

"You should be very sorry," Louis agreed. He pulled some soup out of Liam's fridge that he had definitely got from the takeaway place down the street. "Sorry if I've been a bit broody. I was over here, and you seemed a bit poorly, but I left, and you got worse, and… I shouldn't have gone without making you see a doctor."

Liam was confused for a second. "Oh, the first time you came by? I wasn't really ill. No, don't laugh at me, I wasn't. There wasn't any reason for you to stay. Have you been feeling _guilty_? Lou, that's insane."

"You wouldn't have got so ill if I'd stayed," said Louis.

"I would have got exactly that ill. I caught some horrible bug off Zayn, you prat." 

"Soup," said Louis, taking it out of the microwave. "Sit. Eat. Shut up."

"Probably don't become a full-time nurse," said Liam. "Your bedside manner is terrible."

Louis laughed and Liam grinned at him, a little relieved. They could, apparently, have conversations that were every bit as stupid as they always had been.

When they were done eating – and god, Liam was tired of soup, and of napping, and of being fussed over – Louis dragged him upstairs. Liam worked really, really hard not to think about what Harry had said. 

"I'm not tired," Liam complained. "I will never be tired again."

"I absolutely promise today is the last day I'll bother you about this," Louis said.

Liam didn't particularly believe him. "Until the next time I sneeze, and you go completely mental."

"Yes," said Louis, tackling him onto the bed. "Until then."

"If you think I'm so ill why are you jumping on me?" Liam complained, while Louis made himself comfortable. 

"That's how you know I love you," said Louis. "It's all the jumping and pinching and punching and biting and –"

"You must love me a lot," said Liam. 

There was just a tiny fraction of a silent moment where Louis went still, and Liam realized what he'd said, and neither of them was breathing. Liam's heart thudded a couple of times in his ears, and he thought about what Harry had said, and what Louis had said, and Louis fighting with his mum over it. He hadn't meant anything, but it certainly sounded like he meant all sorts of things. And… maybe he did.

"Of course I do," said Louis loudly. "I wouldn't have been here every day otherwise. Shut up; I can't hear the DVD."

"You haven't even put it on," Liam pointed out, which got him an elbow in the stomach when Louis crawled over him to set up the laptop. "Queue up the second series, then. It gets better as it goes on."

"Yeah, obviously," said Louis. Liam was worried he wouldn't come back, because Liam wouldn't be able to use the excuse of being ill to cuddle after today, but Louis tucked himself against Liam's side and put his head on Liam's shoulder. "Is it very strange if I say I'm sorry you're feeling better?"

Liam laughed a little, jostling Louis, so he had to shift around a bit. "No, I get it," said Liam. "I hate being ill. But… I haven't hated this."

Louis pinched him and then turned it into petting. "As long as you haven't hated it," he teased quietly. 

Liam started to say something and just couldn't manage it. He nodded, instead, and decided to enjoy lying around with Louis while he could.

—

Louis came by the next morning. Liam was vibrating with energy; he felt absolutely and completely better and he needed to start doing things or he'd go mad. "I have a list," he said. "I'm going for a jog – don't yell at me – and I'm going to tidy the house, and call my mum, and—"

Louis sighed. "I was just going to offer to make more tea, is all. But if you're sure you feel better, that's fine."

"I do feel better," Liam insisted.

Louis made a complicated face. "Well," he said, fiddling with Liam's kettle a little. "Well. I'm glad. I get it; you're tired of having someone fussing over you all the time. So I'll just go, shall I?"

Liam was a bit tired of being fussed over, but he hadn't meant to send Louis away. "Oh," he said. "No, I mean… No, you don't have to go."

Louis laughed quietly. "Why am I here if you feel fine?" 

"I…" said Liam, floundering for a minute. "I might not feel entirely well?"

Louis frowned and tilted his head. He reached over and put a hand on Liam's forehead. "No, you're okay," he said. "I'm sorry if you'll miss having someone to wait on you." 

Liam tried to make himself say something but he was a little afraid Louis would make fun of him, or he'd say it so badly that Louis wouldn't know what he meant. Louis was giving him a slightly puzzled look. "I just… I mean, you could stay, is all," said Liam.

Louis looked absolutely confused for a minute, and Liam held his breath. Then Louis's face flickered. "Oh," he said. "Oh, I get it. Harry said something to you." He looked sort of flat, like all the affectionate bouncing had melted out of him and left the mean, brittle Louis who'd been around the last week of tour. "Please don't listen to Harry, he's an idiot. I love him and all, but he shouldn't have talked to you. I knew I shouldn't have said anything to him."

"No!" said Liam quickly, grabbing Louis's arm before he could stomp out, or start snapping at Liam again. "No, you've got that backwards. I went to Harry."

"Liam, don't—" said Louis, trying to pull his arm away.

"No, honestly," said Liam. "I went to him because… Because having you around so much, lately, I started… Er, I've been… I mean, I like you so much, and I didn't know what to do. Harry wasn't much help, to be honest. He just took the piss and laughed at me. It's a bit silly, though, I suppose. Having a… A crush." This conversation was making Liam's chest hurt in an entirely different way from being ill. 

Louis stared suspiciously at him. Of course this couldn't be easy; Louis got so fragile and jagged when he was upset. Liam didn't know what to do, so he tried smiling. That nearly always helped. Well, with most people; not with Louis. Liam rather imagined this was what Harry meant when he said Liam confused Louis.

"You don't have to say that, just to spare my feelings," said Louis. He was still giving Liam a bit of a disapproving, puzzled look.

"I wish you'd spare mine," said Liam. "I feel like an idiot, saying I've got a crush, like I'm twelve or something. I just… I don't want you to go. Even if I'm not ill, I've always liked having you around and I've liked this week, when I wasn’t dying, and… I'm sorry, this is a bit awkward, but I'm _trying_. Don't make fun of me."

Louis stopped trying to actively pull away. "Make fun of you," he echoed. "You must think I'm really mean." The corner of his mouth quirked up into a tiny smile, and some of the horrible anxiety in Liam's chest loosened.

"Well," said Liam tentatively, "you do pinch me sort of a lot."

"Love pinches," Louis insisted. He looked quite a lot less like he was going to try and take Liam's head off. 

"Right," said Liam, biting his lip so he wouldn't laugh. "Makes perfect sense."

"It _does_ ," Louis insisted, and leaned over to pinch Liam. Liam caught his hand before he could. Liam threaded his fingers through Louis's and Louis frowned at their hands and then smiled like he couldn't help it. It was lovely. It made Liam feel all sorts of things.

"I just thought you should know that I think I fancy you, very probably, maybe," said Liam. "That's all."

Louis snorted. "'Very probably, maybe.' What a declaration of sentiments. That's really encouraging."

Liam thought that meant Louis wanted to be encouraged. "It's the best I can do," said Liam. "I've never fancied another bloke before. Well, Harry for about half a day when I first met him, but that was mostly because he was so confusing. And pretty. Please don't tell him I said that."

Louis laughed, and Liam relaxed a little more. "You're joking," Louis said. "Or you're trying to make me feel better, because you're Liam."

"Nope," said Liam, shaking his head. "Not joking, not trying to save your feelings. Not entirely sure what to do about my own feelings, to be honest."

Louis stared at him again, but this time there was intent behind it. It made Liam's mouth go dry. "Shall we test it out?" Louis asked. "Your 'maybe, probably, might be' feelings."

"I'd like to hear more about yours, actually," said Liam. 

Louis leaned in to his space. "If this is a joke," he said, "or something Harry put you up to, just tell me to stop."

"It's not," said Liam. His voice had gone a bit quiet without his permission. "I won't."

"Tell me when you start to panic," said Louis, stepping properly into Liam's space. "Tell me when this is too much of another lad in your face. I won't mind if you have a bit of a freak out, Liam. Honestly."

Louis was going to kiss him. He was going to do it as a joke, and a challenge. For a minute it hurt Liam's feelings, but then he realized that this was how Louis did lots of things, in order to cover up his feelings. "I _won't_ ," Liam repeated. He put his hands on Louis's hips, which felt quite forward. But Harry was right; it wasn't as if this was a first date. Liam wanted Louis; he wanted Louis's hands on him, he wanted Louis pressed up against him, he wanted Louis to kiss him. 

Louis put a hand on Liam's jaw, but it was so tentative that Liam knew he was still just testing the water. Liam's heart banged painfully again and he took a deep breath the way he did before an audition, or bungee jumping. He leaned in and kissed Louis, quick, before he could think about it.

He didn't quite have the nerve to go for a real kiss; he more brushed his mouth against Louis's and tightened his fingers in the belt loops of Louis's jeans. "See?" he said quickly, trying to hide the shake in his voice. "Not a joke, not just—"

Louis pushed up onto his toes and kissed Liam hard. Whatever Liam had been going to say next was lost because Louis had shoved him into the counter, knocking the air out of him. Louis pressed fiercely against Liam's mouth, using his teeth and his tongue and forcing Liam to open up to him, to kiss him back and press his fingers into Louis's hips, trying to keep him from knocking them both over. 

Liam was smart enough to figure out what Louis was doing; another challenge to see if he could scare Liam off, just like he'd been doing when Louis shouted at him. Liam kissed him back, just trying to keep up, until he couldn't breathe and the room was spinning, and he had to pull away. His chest was heaving. "Okay," he said. "Okay, good. That was good."

"You don't have to say that," said Louis. His voice was rough and his eyes were a little wild. Liam couldn't tell if Louis wanted to kiss him again or hit him. Those things got all mixed up with Louis.

"You didn't have to stay and make me tea all week, either," Liam pointed out. 

"You're enjoying this?" Louis asked, pressing his hips into Liam's. Liam had just a second of confusion – he wasn't used to feeling someone else's dick pressing into his leg, but it wasn't bad, just startling, just a bit new. Louis tugged on Liam's hair. "Really? Liam, you won't hurt my feelings, or break my heart. I promise."

Liam smiled. He could tell when Louis was lying, but it wasn't a nice time to tell him that. "I don't want you to quarrel with your mum anymore," he said. "Not when there's a really obvious solution."

"So this is just you being nice. I hate it when you're nice. You're too nice," said Louis. "I'm going to kiss you again. Just to check."

"Yes, please," said Liam, and then thought maybe that was him being too nice, but Louis kissed him again so maybe it didn’t matter. Louis was a bit less frantic and bit kinder this time. It was less of an onslaught so Liam made more of an effort to kiss back. He licked his way into Louis's mouth and tangled their tongues together and coaxed a truly amazing gasping noise out of Louis. Louis tried to pull away and Liam followed him, still holding his belt loops to keep him close.

"Seriously?" Louis asked, grinning a little. Liam liked that grin. He liked everything about Louis, really.

"It seems that way," said Liam.

Louis started to laugh and then caught himself. He looked happy, though, the happiest Liam had seen him since before he got ill. "Maybe I'll stay, then," he said. "I suppose there's no rush to leave."

Liam perked up. "That sounds like an excellent plan."

"You might still be ill, after all," said Louis.

"Urgh, I hope not. I shouldn't kiss you if I'm still ill."

Louis rolled his eyes a little. "Liam. Don't you think, that _just in case_ , we should probably go upstairs to your bed?"

He sounded impatient, but there was the tiniest thread of nerves underneath it. "Oh," said Liam, breaking into a grin. "Oh, yes. You're right. I'm supposed to be on bed rest until Sunday, aren't I?" He ducked his head and kissed Louis. He'd got over the terrible nerves and now he mostly wanted to make the fluttering feeling in his stomach go away by getting Louis to touch him as much as possible. 

Louis's mouth looked amazing; red and bitten and wet. It was awfully hard to let him pull away again. "Bed, yes," said Louis. "Rest… I don't know. That's up to you."

"I'm bored to death of resting, I keep telling you that," said Liam.

Louis's grin was bright but still a little bit tentative. Clearly Liam was going to have to kiss him until he got the idea that Liam really, really wasn't going to run away or change his mind. And then he'd have to get Harry to actually send him over some of that gay porn and work out what was next. Probably Louis would be a great help with that. Liam had some ideas, too. 

"I just really didn't think you'd… I'm just really pleased that we… I mean. Really?" said Louis, tipping his face up. 

Liam had to dig his fingers into Louis's hips so he could stop himself kissing Louis. They'd never get out of the kitchen that way. He tugged Louis toward the stairs. "Yes," said Liam certainly. "I think it would always have been yes, really. But now, yes. _Yes_. Come on."

"Always?" Louis echoed, grinning. "I hear you fancied Harry for half a day, though."

Liam pretended to glare at him while he pulled Louis upstairs with him. "Always since then," he said. "Is everything going to be teasing and playing around with you?" 

"If you play your cards right," said Louis, and Liam laughed.


End file.
